


Setting the Stage

by GlyphArchive



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bets & Wagers, F/F, Genderswap, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21821707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlyphArchive/pseuds/GlyphArchive
Summary: The agreement was that whoever found the best spouse would get the throne. Ambika made her choice and with it, unfortunately, come consequences. Ones she needn't face alone and without allies, at least.
Relationships: Amarendra Baahubali/Devasena
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9
Collections: Margazhi in Mahishmati 2019





	Setting the Stage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AllegoriesInMediasRes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegoriesInMediasRes/gifts).



> Set in the lovely Avani's "Ambika Baahubali" verse.

“Is she worth it to you?” Bala demands quietly, her voice low and full of anger that seems to have no source. Or so it appears to Ambika as she shakes off Bala’s hand upon her arm with a frown.

“Devasena?” Ambika inquires rather than answering, though she can read full well the exasperation in Bala’s features that demands _yes, who else?_ Ambika’s frown deepens and she nearly makes to turn away, perhaps _just_ a little bitter that she must be made to defend her choice even with her own sister. Of all the people Ambika had thought might understand, Bala had certainly been near the top of her list; especially when Bala herself always devoted her skills and talents to achieve whatever she desired.

Bala stepped in front of her so that Ambika cannot escape the question, still thunderous and obviously waiting for a proper answer. “Well? _Is_ she? The princess of a small mountain kingdom – is she worth more to you than what Mahishmati offers?”

“More than the throne?” Ambika quips, losing some of her own patience; facing Bala and drawing herself up to her full height. It makes her sister’s eyes widen when she does and Ambika feels heat spreading over her skin. It crackles like fire, makes her heart beat faster; but Ambika strains to keep her voice level as she continues. “You are asking me if Devasena is worth _more_ to me than a seat of made of stone? Than anyone’s approval, even yours or _Maa’s_? More than a hundred parading princes, hand-picked by the Chief Minister or the court?”

“I am.” Bala draws herself up tall and straight as well, considering her with a frown. “Because although you are _marvelous_ at playing a fool when you want to, this is hardly a time for joking. _Does_ she mean that much to you? _Truly?_ ”

“ _Yes._ ” Ambika wants to shout but it leaves her as a sigh, dragging with it everything she has kept behind a wall until now. Tiredness, exasperation, disbelief, even a little anger of her own. “Yes.” Ambika repeats, remembering how to uncurl her hands from being fists all at once. “Devasena is _more_ than worth every bit of the court’s approval to me. If Maa does not understand it – I… I can live with that. If you – “

Bala cuts her off with a raised hand, every mark of displeasure gone from her face. Instead she looks _satisfied_ , perhaps even closer to joyous than Ambika has seen her in years.

“That is all I needed to know.” Bala remarks, very nearly smiling. “And everything any listening ear might need as well.”

Ambika blinks, then huffs a reserved laugh; tempted to toss her head back and let the mirth consume her. _Of course_ , she thinks; _of course_. Anyone would want to listen in and gauge for themselves whether the proclamation she’d made was true. Rather than a public spectacle in the court they might trust what could be said in private even more; regardless of what rumors might spring up in response. And Bala would remember that, naturally. Her sister who knew almost every part of Mahishmati as well as her very own hands.

“And you call _me_ the theatrical one.” Ambika groused lowly, half-hearted in the reprimand. She feels drained in the wake of her outburst, but the spark dancing in Bala’s eyes is enough to make her curious. “What have you planned, to look so pleased? Tell me, please, because I don’t have the energy to play guessing games.”

“A pity, because that is what you will get.” Bala counters, smug now that she has her victory – or whatever her eyes had been set upon. “Just know that the court cannot strictly _deny_ you based on the fact she is a princess.” Something darts across Bala’s expression, barbed and longing. “So if you _wanted_ to put them all in their place – “

Ambika suspects where this will go and makes a decision, taking Bala’s hands and squeezing them. Bala frowns in surprise, glancing down at their entwined palms before studying Ambika herself.

“And leave you with nothing?” Ambika lifts her brows, hoping that Bala will not fight her on this. “No. That would not be fair. Not when we have done our best to support each other, even if it never seems enough. All I want has nothing to do with the throne.” She adds, just to confirm it so that Bala cannot obsess over context and what has or has not been directly said.”

“Then give me a month.” Bala squeezes her hands briefly, then draws back. She lifts her chin, confident and proud. “If you do not mind the wait and the badgering in exchange for a compromise, I can figure something out which suits us both.”

Ambika would laugh, if perhaps she had not spent all her energy already. Even so, whatever Bala comes up with is sure to be better than the pestering of ministers and so-called wise men.

“I am all ears, if you need them.” She offers, full of gratitude. “Let me know if I need to get a chariot and assist with a kidnapping. It would give everyone something else to talk about, for once.”

“You only think you are entertaining.” Bala deadpans, pushing Ambika towards her room. “It will not come to that. Unlike you, _I_ don’t need to get into a fight in order to find a match.”

 _Of course_ , Ambika thinks and nearly says it; but she is happier to let herself be silently directed to her rooms where Devasena might well be than pretend to fight in a hall once more.


End file.
